--/ 



DELPHIC KANSAS 



By 



KATE STEPHENS 

author of 'American Thumb-Prints: Mettle of 
our Men and Women', etc, etc 



1911 






1\V 



Copyright. 1911, Kate Stephens. 

£ Cl.A2l)366T 



Winds of Delphic Kansas 



Half-west, half-east: half-north, half-south; 

-As in Grecian Delphi in days of old. 

The centre of the world as men then told - 

The winds blow ever - and through a god's mouth 

O the snow-footed, ice-armored winds of the prairie, 
Rushing out mightily 
From cosmic caves of the north. 
From glacier forces of earth and air, 
The v^rinter winds of the prairie! 
They drive dark clouds from morn to morn. 
They shake the light o'er stubbles of corn. 
They whistle through woods of leaves all shorn. 
With never a hint of the spring to be born. 
The flesh-freezing winds of the prairie ! 



Half-north, half-south: half-east half-west; 
The airs pour ever; the winds never rest: 

O the sun-lifted, cotton-soft winds of the prairie, 
Cheering right merrily 
From tillage lands of the south, 
From warmth of breeding southern seas. 
The June-sv/cet winds of the prairie I 
They drive silver clouds all day to its close, 
And shake glowing Hght on young corn in rows, 
They rock the trees till the small birds drowse. 
They swirl the fragrance of wild-grape and rose, 
The seminal winds of the prairie I 



Half-south, half-north: half-west, half-east; 
A people intoxicate; and winds do not cease; 

O the free-state, Puritan-spirited winds of the prairie. 
Singing right heartily 
That gods were but folk who were free. 
That folk who are free are as gods. 

The human-voiced winds of the prairie! 
They call Brown of bloody-blade from Osawatomie, 
They smite swift the shackle - the slave is free; 
To all the v/orld they say in their humanity 
'Come here and build a home loyal to me'. 
The primal-souled winds of the prairie! 



Flalf-east, half-west: half-south, half-north; 

All forces here meet, but the free alone are worth; 

O the self-reliant, right-seeking winds of the prairie, 
Blowing out lustily 

From the race-brood of New England 

In this western ^4ew England, 
The altruistic, rainbow-future winds of the prairie ! 
They strive ever after the ideal - Better! Better! 
Till to-day they sing 'Melior! Brook no fetter! 
Of freedom the spirit seek ye ; not the letter ! 
Melior! Melior ! Better! Better!* 

The cloud-dispelling, star-climbing winds of the prairie ! 

So, prophetic in zeal, through hot winds and cold, 

-As in Grecian Delphi in days of old. 

The centre of the world as men then told - 

Half-west, half-east; half-north, half-south - 

The spirit speaks ever - and through a god's mouth. 



Spring 



Make glad, make glad, 

The lord of growth has come, 

The sun has half his northward journey done. 

And in deep-buried roots moves the Spirit 1 

Upon the dark-earthed field 

Fires of last j^ear's husks the farmer kindles - 

Sacrifices to the lord of growth; 

Smoke rises to the bluer heavens. 

While hawk and solemn crow cut with long wing the sparkling air. 

And little birds do sing *Rejcice! 

Rejoice! the springing life is here I' 

For the sun, O brothers, shines upon our land ! 
And winds, O sisters, blow over all our land I 



Mounting sap now brightens trunk of tree and vine. 
And every tip-most twig swells out its leaf-buds: 

The peach puts forth her bitter-tinted pink, 

Red-bud empurples far each v/ooded stretch. 

And, by the magic of the lord of spring. 

Stand orchards, very ghosts of winter snows, white-cloaked in blossom. 

And wheat, O sisters, greens in our rolling glebe, 
And corn, O brothers, springs from its golden seed 1 

For sun-warmth and wind-strength and praise-God rain are abroad 

in our land. 
Three builders of worlds with the Spirit go forth hand in hand. 



Make glad, make glad. 

The lord of grov/th has come, 

The sun has near his northward journey run. 

And in deep-buried roots moves Life ever-living! 



Corn Song 

(dedicated, with its own melody, to students of 
the University of Kansas) 



I'se singin, singin, singin in de rows of de corn, 
I'se hoein, hoein, hoein in de rows of de corn. 

De cut-worm come and he eat dat corn; 

De hoppergrass come and he gnaw^ dat corn; 

De black smut come and he spoil dat corn: 

So I'se hoein at five in de mornin; 
I'se hoein, hoein, hoein in de rows of de corn. 

Master Sunshine smile he will grow dat corn; 
Mam Summer Rain patter she will grow dat corn; 
Miss South Wind rustle she will grow dat corn; 
Mister Dog Star's winkin he will ear dat corn; 

So I'se hoein at five in de mornin: 
I'se hoein, hoein, hoein in de rows of de corn. 

When Ole Miss Moon in September is full. 
And I'se got my money in my pocket for school. 
Master Jack Frost come with his sharp hard rule. 
And de kernels will be gold of a mornin: 

So I'se hoein, hoein, hoein in de rows of de corn; 

I'se singin, singin, singin in de rows of de corn. 



•K. u; 

(A catch, having also its own music, for 
students of the University of Kansas) 



Of all clip-names of any countree, 
One there is that much pleases me 

•K. u; 

Rah! Rah! Rah! 

Don't you see ? 
I mean of Kansas the University - 
I mean of Kansas the University. 



Our Founders 

(A Kansas University song of praise to be sung to 
the measures of the fine old hymn-tune 'Margaret') 

On this hill's broad base, with the faith of our race 

In freedom, and truth that makes free. 
The strong folk of yore - heavy burdens they bore - 
Set our University: 
Then hail to the vvrork of our founders. 
Who built that the state should be free. 

Yea, they wrought with grace, for unborn of their race. 

For freedom, and truth that makes free. 
Let us praise their name for good-workers' fame 
Who would school generations to be; 
Then hail to the work of our founders. 
Who built that the state should be free. 

Then their praise we sing: may our campus ring 

With freedom, and truth that makes free; 
May we stand to the fore, like those strong folk of yore. 
And make for humanity; 
Then hail to the work of our founders. 
Who built that the state should be free. 



What Are You Doing for K. U. ? 



On a road in Kansas, one day when skies were gay, 

I met Mr. Think-of-self going his life-way; 

•What' . you ask - 'said Think-of-self? - and what did I 8ay> 

'Blamed I'll be*, quoth Think-of-self, 'blamed if I see* - 
In his right hand ail the time holding his degree - 
'What our University has ever done for me*. 

•Now*, said I, 'Think-of-self. think right steadily. 

Could you in life-service half as able be, 

If you were not in your hand holding your degree? 

•Then Mr. Think-of-Self. the question is not what 
K. U. has done for you - perhaps she had not 
Just the right material to make the man she ought: 
And time - it's essential to make the grad she sought. 

The question is, my friend, - and its ethics ring true - 
Not what our Alma Mater may have done for you; 
But - 

What, in Return, Are You Doing for K. U. ? 



Hov/ the Red Bud Came 



Once upon a time, the old books said, 
A winsome girl in a Riding Hood Red, 
Fell prey to Mr. Wolf when he searched for his bread. 

But the books are wrong (as books may be), 
For a strange thing happened, as we shall see. 

Red Riding Hood did on a fair spring day 
Visit her Grandmother - then, singing a lay. 
With basket and flagon take homegoing way. 

'Twas in woods Mr. Grey Wolf came on her path - 
And his lips were curled in a wolfish laugh. 

As the fierce old rogue walked hastily towards 

The red-cloaked girl speaking promise-fair words, 

(For those were the days when the animals talked 

In a speech like to humans') - w^hen tow^ards her he stalked. 

Stood Little Red Riding Hood fast to the spot 

Rooted, eager to fly but daring not. 



(Now what we here tell of those days of old, 
Her Grandmother Tanager in carols has told; 
Also Smoothcoat Chipmunk has chatted from the mold.) 

And as Mr. Grey Wolf neared and snarled 

In those far-av/ay woods 'neath an oak tree gnarled 

And grown with ivy, j'et standing there 

And raising its head in the glad sweet air, 

Then camo that strangest of things to see - 

(Far out of the ken of you or of me) 

For Riding Hood changed all at once to the tree 

That now^ w^e call Red Bud. 

And, too, suddenly 
Her cloak turned to blossoms, w^hich once in a year 
She puts forth to tell Mr. Wolf drew anear - 
A moment of doubt and a moment of fear. 

Her basket and flagon (this likewise is odd) 
Became the seed covers, brown silvery pods. 
Which fall to the ground v/hen the winds blow loud. 

And this is the reason, the wood-folks agree, 

That we now have each spring the cloaked Red Bud tree. 

Who never grows tall, as other trees grow, 

She loves her old child-like stature so. 



The Lady and the Loafer 



Just where our broad Snob Boulevard cuts Quiet Street half way, 

A lady met a loafer in the street one day- 

A not uncommon lady, with frills and - lackaday! 

And an ordinary loafer, I hasten to say, 

Excused by neither kith nor wealth from having work each day. 

The lady gathered in her skirts, and to the loafer said, 

'A loafer's a degenerate - a man's ambition dead - 

Away ! and fill your hands with work, and earn your meat and bread !' 

The loafer, dazed, pulled at his pipe; then answered, 'Honor bright! 
You too're a loafer, lady ; to loaf you think's your right; 
Away I and do some human w^ork, you social parasite' ! 

They both passed on - as they will go until God's time is ripe : 
She lunched with other Overfeds and played at bridge till night; 
He talked of sports athletic, and pulled at cigarette and pipe. 



Ad Vivos 



I, once a man, now safe in dust and slumber. 

Did watch, as thou, the days die one by one. 
And thought - nor ceased to think - how few their number, 

Till they were gone - 

Till they were done. 

As thou dost look, I looked with awe and yeeurning 

To skies of stars, to skies filled full of suns. 
For trace of gods; and midst all light there burning 

I found but one - 

Found only One. 

Then turned I earthward, heart aflame with longing. 

To men and w^ives, to folk of joy and dole, 
And found in mine own kind, stars' light outshining, 

- Godlike with love 

And part of One - 

The human soul - 

The moral soul - 

The selfless soul. 



An Anti-Greed Creed 

Why seek ye symbol, rite and form ? 
In these truth dies and Hes are born. 
Why seek ye shadow realms above ? 
We die in what wc do not love. 

And love is living others* days - 
This is the faith ot final praise: 
This is the faith of greatest meed - 
The love that succors others* need - 
The love that furthers others* deed. 
All else is plain a fierce miscreed. 

It puts all mouthing rites to shame - 
The love that heals another's blame; 
Does for this earth, and human use, 
And each day*s life and worth and truth; 
That aids to find its deathless goal 
Not one's own but another*s soul. 

Then why seek symbol, rite and form ? 
In these truth dies and lies are born. 
Then why seek shadow realms above ? 
We die in what we do not love. 



Works, Not Words 

Naught avails the prayer of priest and nun, 
When their life-service is left undone. 



Socrates' Prayer 

at the end of Plato's Phaedrus 

(worded in English) 



Pan beloved, and other gods 
V/ho nov/ may be near me, 
Grant that within - in inner life - 

1 beautiful may be; 

Let outward things - whate'er I have - 
My inner Hfe set free. 

The wise alone may I deem rich; 
And grant, O Pan, to me. 
No more of gold than a moderate man 
May use most easily. 



Plato's Imperishable Epigram 
(Englished in two versions) 

I 

Thou geizest on the stars ! 
Would I might be, 
O star of mine. 

The skies 
With myriad eyes. 
To geize on thee. 

II 

Thou gazest on the stars, 

My star ! 
Would I might be. 

The skies 
With many eyes 
To look on thee. 



FRAGMENTS, IN ENGLISH, FROM AN OLD. GREEK POET 

Antiphone 

(Alcman delighted in composing songs for Spartan girls, and 
in teaching the girls to sing and dance his songs in process- 
ional choruses. This fragment from one of his graceful par- 
thenia touchingly refers to the old age that now keeps him 
from his wonted drill.) 

No longer, maids of honey voice and yearning tones. 

Can my limbs bear me, O that I were the cerylus ! 

Who skims o'er blossoms of the wave together on the wing 

With kingfishers, a dauntless heart, sea-purple bird of spring. 



The Peace of Night 

(This second fragment tells in exquisite detail and complete- 
ness how the sleep of nature appealed to the ancient. Alcman 
may have composed it as he stood under the midnight stars in 
the vale of Lacedaemon, his imagination passing from the 
peaks of neighboring Taygetus, down through the peopled 
forests of the mountain sides, to the Mediterranean which 
washes the base.) 

The range's peaks, and their gullied sides, lie w^rapt in sleep; 
The jutting headlands and swoln mountain torrents; 
Things that creep, all whatsoever the black earth doth nourish; 
Beasts that haunt the heights; the swarms of bees; 
Flocks of swift-winged birds; 

And in the deeps of the purple sea huge monsters; 
-All wrapt in sleep. 



^8 



